


As Snow Falls on Desert Sky

by Stray_Ashes



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Adventure, Artist!Gerard - Freeform, Dreamer!Frank, Freedom, Frerard, Future, M/M, Nuns, Orphanage, Orphans, Secrets, Sky - Freeform, Snow, Suspense, Translation, War, my chemical romance - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 06:50:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9310118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stray_Ashes/pseuds/Stray_Ashes
Summary: "As Snow Falls on Desert Sky, As Days Fade and We Go Cold"_______There always was something empty... in the sky, in the people, in their eyes and in their words.Frank had felt a void inside himself for all of his life, while watching guys like him walk between those grey and gloomy walls, in that old building full of vain hopes.Everyone wanted to get away from here, maybe between the arms of someone to call mom and dad, running towards a place to finally call 'home'. But how could exist a future for someone who didn't even have a past? It was so useless dreaming as days went by, fading away and getting lost into nothing.Everyone wanted to go away... or maybe not. Maybe, not /everyone/.His name was Gerard Way. And he was an artist.And secretly, a lot more.______"I want you to do something for me...". Without warning, he lifted a hand to my face, moving his thumb on one side of my lip and wiping away - with slow delicacy - a chocolate stain. Satisfied with the result, he smiled. "You think you can do that, Frank?"I just hoped he didn't notice the shiver that ran through my spine.





	

 

 

 

**As Snow Falls on Desert Sky,  As Days Fade**

**and We Go Cold**

 

_Chapter 1: **Happy Birthday, Iero.**_

_**  
** _

 

There were times when I looked at the sky and found it empty.

I felt it deep inside, that it was empty. Still, my mind knew it wasn't.

And I wondered what I would have thought about the sky if no one had ever taught me what it was, what it kept inside; what if no one ever told me about the clouds, the molecules, the oxygen, the stars, the planets, and each one if their names.

What would have I thought?

Maybe I would have stayed in the conviction that it was just blue, clear, endless, empty. I would have thought that it was colorful, that it had a mood, and that it could cry in winter and blush in the evening, or that it could suddenly turn pale, like a living being. Maybe I would have thought that it was like a mirror, a shattered glass hung up there, and that it could fog up just like the glasses of one of my roommates.

Or maybe my young and naive mind would have invented something new about the sky, something beyond it, something absurd and crazy. It's when we don't know certain things that our fantasy works.

From the window of my dormitory, I looked at the sky and fantasized. I wanted to find my own fantasy, my own freedom, in order to express myself and my soul. And that was the reason why I wanted to break free from this place, and live like a _normal_ person.

Still... I'd been here for 16 years. And I was starting to feel like I would never get to finally go away, I would have died here looking at the sky, feeling empty, feeling without an answer, because I didn't have the right question.

How could ever exist a future for someone who didn't have a past and still didn't know what the present really was?

From here I looked at the kids exiting that door, becoming free. While I just stayed sat  here, opening and closing a window.

From that door I had only entered once, a long time ago. And I don't even remember exactly when: I could have been born here, for that matter. 

I sighed and turned away from the windowsill, already fed up of my own thinking. I eyed the dormitory without interest: it was grey, dark, anonymous, filled up with bunk beds and pale sheets, looking similar to the bunks of the soldiers that outside were fighting a war. It reminded me of a prison. Or a morgue. Even the corridors and the walls resembled those of a hospital.

Then I thought about all the similar thoughts that had been already thought between these very same walls. This was an old building, and a kid's head worked in the same way about this kind of things, no matter what year it was. It was like I could hear the ghosts of their voices, whispering in the empty cold air: broken dreams, jokes, complains, fears, curses and arguments. It was all still here, somewhere, throughout the years.

We all wanted to go away though, since the moment we arrived. I mean, you could make good friends here, but the atmosphere was sad, gloomy and miserable, it always was, and when someone managed to get away, it was even worse: you had to show a kind smile, whishing them good luck – as if they already hadn't had enough luck, what the hell – and then when the door was closed, those smiles vanished, melting away like snow in the sun. Because that someone was free now, but _you_ weren't.

You had to stay here, sleeping in smelling beds, waiting for the other kids to stop snoring, eating disgusting food at the canteen, washing dishes, brushing your teeth while struggling with the annoying kid that tried to steal your toothbrush – and eventually punching someone in the face – respecting your turn for the shower, watching the nuns walking, and walking, while thinking about the plot of that adventurous novel you shouldn't have read during Mass.

You couldn't go outside, or have a dog, caress a cat, dress as you liked, listen to what you wanted, fall in love. You had to forget, bit by bit, what a parent was, what being a child meant.

Kids constantly got away, and you were still there. How could you keep on smiling? It wasn't a matter of egoism and selfishness, it was a matter of wanting to be happy.

We all, from the younger to the older, wanted to run away in the arms of someone to call mum and dad. Even me.

Everyone... or maybe not. Maybe, not _everyone_.

His name was Gerard Way. Right now, I could barely remember his face, because I more probably have never seen him. He was one of the older guys, he was in another dormitory. People talked about him at night, when there were no more gossips, even though we knew nothing about him, which was pretty rare, given that we were in an orphanage and people knew almost everything about each other. We had a lot of spare time, after all.

Certainly, a lot of stories were created about Gerard Way, things like he was some sort of ghost of the orphanage, so he couldn't leave the building. I obviously didn't believe it.

Anyway, he had always intrigued me, just from the little I knew, beside the fact that what I knew could be true or false. What was absolutely sure though, was the fact that the boy didn't want to go away from here – not in the arms of some random person, at least; they said that he didn't even dare to touch anyone, that he refused every kind of contact. He didn't want to get away, he didn't want to meet the people who wanted to take him with them and make him part of a new family. The nuns had tried to convince him, looking for him through the _whole_ building, but as soon as Gerard found out that someone wanted to meet him, or even _adopt_ him, he simply disappeared, and no one managed to find him unless he wanted them to. And from that fact, the myth of him being a ghost was born.

Gerard Way never talked, not to everyone; he never looked at you in the eyes, he never gave direct answers, he never listened, never cared if you insulted him, never cared if you complimented him. He just didn't _care_. Gerard walked, ran, hid, read, taking the liberty of judging; he was smart, and he was a beautiful guy, or so they said, because I had never seen him, but I someone believed that rumor. They talked about his deep green eyes, his jet black hair, his somehow strong yet soft features.

He knew how to care for himself, he knew how to act from situation to situation, he knew when to answer and he knew when he didn't need to; he certainly knew how to persuade you, he could be determined and resolute, mean but also elegant and polite. From these rumors, it seemed that Gerard was _everything_. And most important, they said he was an artist.

It was obvious that people wanted to have him, to know him, take him away.

And yet, he didn't let them do it. And nobody knew why. They said that one of the very few answers he ever gave was "I belong to no one".

I wanted to hear that sentence fall from his mouth, before starting to decide what it meant, what he wanted to tell... because yeah, I was definitely intrigued. I had always wanted to know him, but... a part of me was also afraid of who he really was, what he thought inside his head.

I wanted to be an artist, too.... But I had never really _tried_. I barely knew where I had to start, because here, between these empty walls and these pale hopes, it was like you could never try to be something free, something creative... how could I be an artist?

Gerard Way had found a way.

"You still at that damn window?".

I turned around slowly, recognizing David's voice, and trying to smile slightly. "Still at this damn window".

He smiled back at me, crossing the room and resting a shoulder against the wall before throwing a brief look at the courtyard.

Noticing the thick, uncomfortable silence that followed, I instantly knew that something wasn't right. "Josh?".

David lowered his eyelids, adverting my gaze with a sad sort of smile. "The Lady kissed him".

Swallowing, I slowly nodded.

The _Lady_ was the name that we gave to the general fortune, and given our condition, fortune meant being adopted. If a person asked to see you, then the Lady had took your hand, and if you were eventually adopted, the Lady – the _fortune_ – had kissed you.

Losing Josh saddened me, he was one of the funniest guy I knew, and he was best friends with Tyler and David. It had been a while since we lost one of our dormitory, since I lost one of my friends. However, after that meeting he did a week ago, he had already looked far too happy for it to mean nothing, because apparently he had already understood that that couple wanted to adopt him for real.

"I'm sorry".

David shrugged. "I knew it was going to happen anytime soon. I care about him, and now I guess he's finally happy".

I looked up, watching his dark blue eyes. He was looking at something outside, beyond me and beyond the courtyard. I wondered what he was truly thinking right now. I didn't doubt that he was happy for Josh, they actually were friends, but David was far from smiling now. "Yeah, but _he_ is free. _You_ 're not".

"No, I'm not".

David was 14 years old, he still had some time to hope. I had faith in him, I thought he could do it, go finally away: he was far too much energetic though, he didn't study a lot, and he didn't have particular skills, but nonetheless he had that 'good boy' face which one day would be able to make him adopted. And he knew how to be polite when necessary. One day, I know I would be sat at this damn window while watching my friend escape from the door.

Even him, just like everybody else... Or no, _not everybody_.

I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest and half-closing my eyes, hearing far away voices; it was already time to eat, but I didn't really feel like having to stand the other kids and their yelling... yet, I was hungry.

"Oh, right" David said then, leaning forward and closing the window, perhaps annoyed by the chilly air of October. "Happy Birthday, Iero".

Once again, I looked up at him, smiling a bit. "Thanks," I muttered softly. Sixteen years old. It wasn't much, after all, I still had some hope, but... the age wasn't my main problem here.

"You already packed your bags?" David asked, and the ironic tone was palpable.

"Oh yeah, I already have two full. Wanna help me carry 'em?" I countered back, with a sly smile. Truth was, we didn't have almost anything of our own, I could easily carry my few things with my hands: a change of clothes, some books, my toothbrush.

David laughed briefly, without much joy. "Good luck with the older guys, then. I think you'll need it".

"I'm afraid that yes, I'm gonna need _a lot_ of luck," I sighed, watching gloomily the closed window. There were two reasons why I didn't want to be 16 years old; first, this was another year I had thrown away living here, so I had less possibilities to be 'kissed' by the Lady. Second, when you were 16, you had to change dormitory so now I had to live with the older kids... and that was never a good thing. They already tired me up in the canteen, with their deep and loud voices, and I didn't know anyone of them... make any kind of friendship was not easy, and keep on staying with just the younger kids would have been bad for my already awful social reputation. Kids could be mean. But I had to try and adapt myself to the new routine, while watching if someone deserved a word, or if someone would appreciate my company.

I wasn't good with this kind of things. My one and only hope was to be kissed by the Lady, but by now that was even more improbable than making a new friend.

"It's better if we reach the canteen now, before the nuns could complain again" David said suddenly, starting to backing away from the windowsill and interrupting my thoughts. I nodded without saying anything, I didn't need to.

I followed him outside the dormitory, down through the corridor and the stairs, crossing path with the other kids guided by their hungry stomachs, and certainly not by the smell that came from the kitchens because that wasn't the best smell ever, to be honest.

David was one of the few people who remembered my birthday, or at least, one of the few that made me aware of the fact. Actually, all of them knew that now I was 16 and that I was going to change dormitory, but none of them said anything. And I didn't want them to.

This was an orphanage: a birthday wasn't great, it was a disaster. And we all knew it. We made best wishes to each other every day, in every word and every look; everyone wanted to get away, and we secretly whished our friends the same thing. That was the only true solidarity that we all shared.

In our tragedy we were united, but that social balance was broken when you were 'kissed' and taken away.

It felt like we were in Purgatory, watching our friends and enemies reach Heaven while you had to watch yourself gradually fall to Hell.

**Author's Note:**

> Soo here's the first chapter, eh.
> 
> This is a tranlation I'm trying to do by myself (I'm writing the original in Italian), so it's an experiment and I don't know, at least I hope I'll be able to finish this story, I'm growing pretty fond of it, or I wouldn't be here translating it.
> 
> However, the first chapter isn't much but I hope you'll get to like the other chapters better.
> 
> Some of you probably knows me and my art from Instagram (@stray_ashes), but if you don't, you can go and check it; right now I'm drawing the cover for this story, you'll find some wips there.
> 
> Not much to say, I'm not in the mood to write now. I'm just gonna do nothing and eat some chocolate, waiting for tomorrow (fuck I'll be 18 wat the hell I'm excited).
> 
> Tell me what you think..?
> 
> Love ya,
> 
> _Ashes


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